


Featherbed

by deantops



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, nesting! cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deantops/pseuds/deantops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up in the middle of the night with an arm full of warm, pliant angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Featherbed

Dean had fallen asleep in the bed next to Sam as usual, empty beer bottles and scrunched-up burger wrappings on the table between them. They had stayed up late watching the technicolor static take over the motel room standard TV set, tired after having finally iced a witch that had been a pain in their ass for a few weeks. So all in all a normal night, unremarkable from the countless others of the 'saving people, hunting things' life. 

What was not so normal was that Dean had woken up far before morning, judging from the lack of light filtering in through the cheap curtains, with something very soft tickling his nose. He huffed out a breath, but the whatever-it-was simply fluttered and made him sneeze.

There was someone next to him. A very warm someone, breathing evenly with their head tucked into his shoulder.

"Sam," he hissed, "What the fuck, man, I'm trying to sleep here-"

Whoever it was shifted against him, almost nuzzling into the dip of his collarbone, and okay, wow, that definitely wasn't Sam, because he fit evenly along his body, not overflowing the bed like his moose of a brother.

"Cas?"  
"Mmph."  
"Cas."  
"Hello, Dean."

Dean squinted his eyes in the dark, suddenly very aware that he had an arm full of warm, pliant angel.

"Uh, Cas, don't take this the wrong way, but why are you in my bed?"

"I felt the need to sleep." Warm breath brushed his neck. " It's a strange feeling. Very...human."

"Oh." Dean relaxed a little, arms hesitantly encircling Cas, and encountering something soft and downey that was pillowed beneath his head and wrapped around his shoulders. "Cas, do - are those your wings?'

They shifted gently in reply. Cas nodded sleepily. "They are my wings, yes, Dean."

Dean cautiously rubbed circles along the joint of a wing, feeling the hard muscle and sinew beneath the silky smooth feathers. He was aching to see the color, memorize the way they were a part of his angel, an outward sign of his grace.

Cas became even more relaxed under Dean's gentle hands, melting into the hunter's side and drawing his wings around them to form a bubble of warmth and comfort. Dean made an effort to breathe in and out evenly, his cheek resting against the top of Cas' head.

"Hey, Cas? Are you... nesting?"


End file.
